


My City Too

by Ficbunny



Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Language, Help, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Like seriously someone send help, Low key Spideypool, Multi, Okay maybe not so low key, Protective Tony Stark, Superfamily, Underage Rape/Non-con, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, so many references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:39:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ficbunny/pseuds/Ficbunny
Summary: Everyone seems to be after Peter, and none of this is his fault.~~~Wade pulled against the handcuffs that held him to his own chair as he watched the younger man with concerned eyes. He couldn’t help but ask, “What’d you do to get so many people ticked at you?” When the teen’s chocolate brown eyes met his cloudy blue ones he elaborated, “I might need some pointers.”With a chuckle, Peter replied, “Basically… absolutely nothing. Everyone is after me, but I haven’t done a single thing, not to them anyway.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, this is my first marvel fic so no promises. I hope it is good, but the characters might be a little ooc. Also, I just wanna let y'all know I hardcore ship Spideypool, but Peter is only 16 in this fic. Therefore, I will try to reign it in, but no guarantees.

Clint ran a steady hand through his sandy hair, “So, how exactly are we supposed to stop Loki if the only person who has been able to stop him before has suddenly swapped teams?”

  
When Peter had stepped off the elevator a few moments ago, he found his dads and the rest of the Avengers, minus Thor gathered around the table. He had dropped his backpack and made himself a sandwich while he eavesdropped on the conversation. It's not that he couldn't have gotten the info himself, it's just that pretending to be hungry and listening in on the Avengers is a whole lot easier than sneaking out to bust heads as Spider-man. Plus, free sandwich! It's a win-win situation. 

Peter took his time pulling out the bread, slicing tomatoes, which he didn't even like, and selecting the perfect combination of deli meats, basically everything in the fridge, while the heroes continued to talk. Apparently, Loki was, once again, trying to take over the earth, Midgard, whatever. This time, however, it seemed Thor was with him, or at least m.i.a. from the Avengers.

  
Peter swung his feet which were dangling over the top of the counter he was sitting on while he listened to Steve ponder, “I just don't understand why Thor would do this.”

  
Peter picked this time to interrupt, “Well, I mean, it is his brother.”

  
Tony, Steve, and Bruce’s heads all snapped towards him.  
Maybe he was sneakier than he thought.

  
Bruce and Steve looked thoughtful while Tony just looked angry, “Go to your room, Peter. This isn't any of your business.”

  
The teen rolled his eyes and scoffed. He slid gracefully off the counter as he shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. With his mouth full he grumbled, “Sorry, just thought I'd help.”

  
There was a spark in Tony’s eyes as he replied, “It doesn't matter Peter. I don't want you caught up in this.”

  
Peter could tell this was about to be a thing.

  
Luckily, before the youngest could retort back Bruce interjected, “Hang on Tony. The kid might be onto something,” Bruce twisted his body around to look at Peter over the back of the couch, “What do you mean Peter?”

  
The ‘kid’ cast a wary glance at his dad before he revealed, “It's just that… Well, let’s say dad went all ‘take over the world’ evil. Pops wouldn't want to just charge in and put a bullet in his head. He would want to at least talk to him first. He probably would even try to bring him in. Maybe Thor hasn't switched teams, he just doesn't want to do something he’ll regret.”

  
Steve cast his gaze towards the floor before he chimes in with a steady voice, “Thank you, Peter, that could be helpful, but I think it would be best if you were to go do your homework in your room now.”

  
The sixteen-year-old let out a harsh breath and fired back, “I just don't understand. You guys can go around the world doing whatever you please, but I can't even so much as be in a conversation about this stuff.” Peter’s voice rose in anger with each word.

  
It seems Tony’s temper was flaring as well.

He rose from where he was previously slouched in the dining chair and shouted, “Peter. Room, now. None of this is your problem.”

  
Taking a step towards his dad, Peter shouted back, “I don't see why the hell not. It's my city too.”

  
In a challenging tone, Tony replied, “Oh yeah? Well, what are you going to do to protect it?”

  
The young vigilante shook his head in disbelief. “You're right, dad,” he spat the last word like it was an insult, “What can I do? I'm just a stupid, naive child who isn't capable of anything” He stuck his tongue in his cheek and scoffed once again. Then, stomping to the door he growled, “I'm going out. Don't wait up,” And grabbing his backpack, which he had dropped by the door when he arrived, he disappeared into the elevator.

~~~

Tony knew he screwed up.

  
He lost his temper way to quick and with little reason. But, just two hours ago he’d been in a fight with thirty-plus men and no backup. Which would be no problem except for the men were on some kind of crazy super soldier steroid.

  
It’s a problem that the Avengers had been trying to stop for a few months now, but it seems every time they deplete a stash three more show up. This stupid drug enhances regular people’s strength, speed, and reflexes for about a day, and leaves them with no more than an average hangover.

The Avengers don’t usually get caught up in the big time gangs and drug traffickers, maybe Matt has the patience for it, but Tony definitely doesn’t. This time, however, not getting involved could be dangerous.

  
Immediately after stepping through the doors to the tower Tony was alerted of Loki’s reappearance on Earth, and Thor’s disappearance.

When he was done getting patched up by Bruce he’d called the Avengers into the living/dining room. Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Steve all showed up sitting on various couches and chairs.

It wasn’t long into the impromptu meeting that the billionaire started to feel the painkillers wearing off. If anyone asked, that would be what was setting him on edge, but if he was being honest it started before he’d even finished off the last of the men he had fought earlier.

While totally kicking ass Tony had thought he’d heard someone say Peter’s name.

At first, he figured it was just one of the thug’s name, but after hearing it a few more times it started to become more suspicious.

When the guys thought they had him beat they, as they always do, started to monologue. Snooze fest let me tell you, but then, without doubt, they said his son’s name, Peter Parker. Tony wasn’t sure if they were aware of the connection, but it pissed him off either way.

Which would be the real reason Tony blew up on Peter, even if it was dumb.

He couldn’t understand why anyone would be after him unless it was because of his part in the Avengers. So, as impossible as it will surely be, he was going to keep Peter out of this. No more late nights chatting about bad guys, no more discussing why stopping this bad guy is better than stopping that one, no more Avengers. If this stuff was putting his son in danger, then he couldn’t let him be a part of it.

  
This plan was nearly immediately shot out of the water when said son spoke up.

It bothered Tony that a.) half the Avengers just got snuck up on by a sixteen-year-old, and b.) he’d already failed. So, Tony snapped at him, and clearly, the kid was ready to argue back.

Bruce was right though, the kid did make a good point, as he always seemed to do, but Tony didn’t see another way, and telling Steve would only make him go all ‘papa bear’ on the poor kid. But then, the kid stormed out, and, God help him, Tony’s heart skipped a beat.

  
As the elevator doors slid shut, Tony jumped up to go after him. Here he was trying to protect him and now he was out on the street, alone, at night.

  
Clint called after him, “Tony, I think maybe he just needs some room to breathe.”

  
He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “In the middle of New York,” he checked his watch, “past midnight?”

  
Steve stood up as well and walked over to his husband. “I think Clint may be right. You and Peter need some space between you.”

  
Tony glanced at the closed elevator doors and made his decision, “Steve, I'm going to need to talk to you in private. The rest of you, find a way to stop Loki.” Then, Steve was dragged off into an adjoining room, so Tony could tell him about the people after their son. Papa bear was exactly what he needed right now.

~~~

“Making my way downtown.  
Walkin’ fast, faces pass, and I'm fuck bound  
Da da da da daa  
Starin’ at Spidey’s ass  
Makin’ my way, makin’ my way to turned on.  
Da da da da daa  
And I'm going  
Da da da da daa  
To k-word him  
Da da da da daa  
For some cash”

  
[Is there a reason you're butchering a song from the 1800s?]

  
He rolled his eyes, “For your information, we call the song gold, but I'll forgive you for insulting the fucktastic Vanessa Carlton because of your proper use of you're.”

  
{Up here, we call that song terrible.}

  
“Remind me to put it on repeat tonight.”

  
{Sure thing. We’ll put it right under ‘crippling depression’ and ‘drink a bottle of bleach.’}

  
With a cheery voice, the man replied, “Thanks!” and started skipping after our friendly neighborhood Spider-man.

  
It wasn't long before he had to start running to keep up with the web-slinger, and shortly after that, he lost him completely.

  
Grumbling to himself, and to his boxes, the masked merc climbed up a fire escape to get, and I quote, ‘Dopeass falcon eyes.’ He hadn't even made it up two flights when he murmured, “Fuck it,” and crawled in through some lady’s window.

  
The lady, of course, screamed bloody murder and scrambled for the telephone that was attached to the wall nearby. With lightning speed, he darted to the phone and pulled it off the receiver, “You know, I hear these things are a fire hazard.”

  
[Seriously, who has landlines anymore?]

“I don't know white, maybe it's an antique.”

  
{Ooh! Do you think it's worth anything?}

  
“Couldn't hurt to see.”

  
Gloved fingers pushed down on three buttons.

  
{Technically two since one was just the same number twice.}

  
[Leave the poor author lady alone yellow.]

  
{Yeah Yeah, whatever.}

  
Anyway, with a smile aimed at the blubbering lady, the costumed mercenary listened to the rehearsed, “911, What's your emergency?” before answering with his best helpless old lady impersonation, “Hi yes darling. I… I think this lady is trying to steal my identity,” he threw in some sniffles to really sell it, “she says she's me from the past and won't leave me alone.”

  
The gullible woman on the other end responded with a soothing tone, “Calm down ma’am. Tell me what's going on.”

  
He whimpered again, nearly bursting into laughter at the lady cowering in front of him’s face, “Help! She keeps talking about stealing my phone. It an antique! My grandmother’s grandmothers!”

[I don't think they had phones that far back.]

Reverting back to his normal voice, which sounded like Wolverine running his claws along a chalkboard while screaming, he sighed,”Yeah well, you don't have to ruin everything.”

  
With that he ripped the whole phone off the wall and walked out the door with it in hand. He paused at the threshold, “Pleasure doing business with ya. Police might be on their way.”

  
Then he strides off and into the elevator a couple doors down while tucking the old worthless phone into one of his varying pouches. He rides the elevator to the top then climbs the stairs the rest of the way to the roof. With a screech he swung the door open only to find the spandex clad figure he'd thought he had lost to be sitting on the ledge. Though it's likely already a lost cause he slowly pulls his favorite gun, he named it Ernie, out of its holster.

  
As he starts to raise it the man’s head cocks to the side and he turns his ear towards him, “Deadpool, right?”

  
{Hehe, it says cock!}

[Zip it, I wanna see what the lug stepped in this time.]

Lowering his gun he bows, “Merc with a mouth, at your service. Or, ya know, you could use your mouth to be at mine.”

  
The younger man chuckles and turns back towards the street, “Spider-man,” He paused for a moment before tacking on, “and I think you should at least buy me dinner first.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Peter had been adopted by Tony and Steve he was 7, and he remembered clearly the days when the two heroes would sit him down at the dining table and show him pictures. At the time, he just thought it was game. One of them would hold up a picture and little Peter would say hero or villain. Over the years the game got more complicated. After Peter learned their status he learned names, powers, affiliations. To put it simply, Peter was like a walking database of supers, and Deadpool, well he definitely didn't get excluded. 

Wade Winston Wilson, mercenary for hire, massive healing factor, origins: Weapon X, friends with Cable, Jack Hammer, Wolverine (Debatable), etc., overall status: villain. If Peter listened at all he would have swung off when he first realized he was being tailed. Instead, he'd swung around not really caring just hoping to burn off some steam. He'd picked up speed and started swinging dangerously close to corners not in an effort to lose the man skipping after him, but to work out his frustration. When he realized Deadpool was no longer behind him he made a circle in efforts to find him. When he came back in sight he saw the man slipping into a window on the second story of an old apartment complex. Hoping he was right about what the anti-hero had in mind he swung up to the top of the building and sat down on the ledge letting his feet dangle.

Peter smelt him before he heard him. 

As the cold wind whipped past his masked face it brought the smell of unwashed leather and Mexican food. Turning slightly he could just barely make out the red and black figure. “Deadpool, right?”

The man bowed, “Merc with a mouth at your service. Or, ya know, you could use your mouth to be at mine.”

Peter couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped as he turned back to face the street, “Spider-man,” When the young vigilante’s spidey sense didn't immediately go off he deemed it safe and added, “and I think you should at least buy me dinner first.”

The mercenary didn't instantly reply instead he seemed to be having some kind of internal debate.  
“An offers an offer.”  
There was a beat of silence before he started again, “Well no, but we could totally pool a mib moment if it goes badly.”  
Once again Deadpool paused as if listening to someone else before he came back in a whiny tone, “Get it pool like Deadpool! Come on, guys, it's no fun when I have to explain my jokes.”  
Spidey didn't know what to say, and if he was being completely honest he didn't even think he was invited to the older man’s conversation. He'd heard that the man was… strange, to put it lightly, but he didn't really expect this. Finally, the man said something that Peter felt might of sort of been directed at him.  
“Burritos?”

He jumped at the moment to work himself back into the man's focus, “Actually, I'd prefer chimichangas.”

It seemed to work for the masked mercenary came over and flopped down on the ledge next to him before responding, “As any real Mexican lover would, so tell me gorgeous what you up to in Hell’s Kitchen?”

“What do you mean? And you don't know what I look like, I'm wearing a mask.”

“Anyone with an ass like that has to have a face to match.” There was a pause as Deadpool’s head tilted to the side, “No I don't think…” Another pause, “I'm mentally sticking my tongue out at you.”

Peter sighed and kicked his foot against the building he wasn't sure why he thought this was a good idea. Truthfully he kind of hoped he would be able to talk to the guy. Originally he had been going to go to Matt’s for the night. He usually didn't ask too many questions when Peter showed up, and he was the only person who knew about his double life, but when he'd noticed Deadpool following him he'd thought maybe he needed more than one friend. As he listened to the man babble he was regretting that decision. 

Peter closed his eyes and let out a deep whooshing breath. He cast a sidelong glance at the masked man who was making some pretty vivid hand gestures and prepared himself to swing away. As he shifted to get up he noticed something in the merc’s pocket, “Please tell me that’s not Elena’s phone.”

Two black panda eyes focus on him as Deadpool stammers, “Wha… I…” He looks down and even though he is wearing a mask you can see when it dawns on him, “No, this old thing I just found in a dumpster.”

The lie was clear, but Peter decided to roll with it, “You're a dumpster diver?”

“I'm, huh, damn it why is this so confusing. I mean I thought that you were given Captain America: Civil War, but I guess your… living arrangements… would put us in a total different timeline, and frankly, that's okay because I totally should have been in that movie. I mean hello greatest fucking hero alive right here! Hell, I should of been the main character. Can you imagine how fucktacular that would've been, and of course, you would have gotten more screen time because that ass is just,” he made the whole Italian cook kiss motion before continuing his fast-paced rant, “I mean damn, and Tom Holland, don't even get me started. Don't get me wrong Andrew Garfield was… Hmm, I wonder if you look like Tom Holland under that mask..” 

Peter could see where this was going, “I'm going to stop you right there and just say that a.) you're going to return that phone to Mrs. Cardenas and b.) I don't know what you're talking about, but if the title of the movie is Captain America: Civil War, then how could you be the main character?”

Deadpool beamed at him like he hadn't expected him to follow that whole rant, “You're a good listener, I like you. And we could totally change the title to Deadpool: Civil War.”

Spidey just shrugged and countered, “Doesn't have the same effect… What about Deadpool: a movie about Deadpool?”

“You know, I like where your heads at kid,” 

Before Peter could protest that he wasn't a kid Deadpool’s cell went off, and Peter had to ask, “Is that the Kimmunicator beep.”

The mercenary jumped to his feet and fake swooned, “I think I'm in love!” 

Spidey followed suit and climbed up from his position on the ledge, “Well, see you around DP.”

As he went to swing away a gloved hand fell on his shoulder and Deadpool commented, “But we were bonding.”

Peter paused to listen as the older man’s cell continued to beep before responding, “Tell you what, not to hate on KP, but my ringtone totally dominates that one. Next time you see me, make sure to ask me what it is.” Then, without waiting for a reply he swung off and decided to head back home for the night.”

 

~~~

It wasn't easy to get Steve angry, but Tony never seemed to have any trouble. “Why would you not think to tell me that our son could possibly in danger.”

The billionaire at least had the sense to look chastised as he argued, “I didn't think it would really be a problem.”

Steve’s jaw literally dropped before he asked, “How could you not see that as a problem?”

Tony chewed on the inside of his lip, the only sign he was even remotely worried, “He lives with the Avengers, and he is hardly gone except for school. I didn't expect him to take off in the middle of the night!”

Steve felt his anger rising again, “Then why would you yell at him!?”

“I didn't mean!...” Tony let out a deep breath before continuing at a softer volume, “I didn't mean to go off like that. Let's just…” he sighed again, “Let's just find him alright?”

Steve nodded and pulled his husband in for a hug, “I'm sure he's fine. He probably just went to the library or something.”

Tony nodded and pulled away, “I’ll go look around. You stay here in case he comes back.”

The blonde watched as he headed back to the main room. As Tony reached the door he couldn't stop himself from asking, “Tony, what will you do if you find him.”

With his hand resting on the doorknob he answered, “I’ll bring him home.”

“And if he doesn't want to come?” Steve knew he shouldn't be pushing him, but he needed to know.

The genius considered his answer before just shrugging, “I guess we’ll see.” Then, he walked to the elevator in the other room and left to look for their son. 

 

It wasn't an hour before Steve received a phone call from Natasha.

When Steve and Tony had switched rooms Bruce, Clint, and Natasha had left to track down Loki. Apparently they’d found him. “He’s in Brussels. We’re waiting at the jet whenever you and Stark get done sucking faces.”

“We’re having a uh… family emergency, we’ll catch up to you.”

“Sorry Cap, but we really need all hands on deck. I'm sure, whatever is going on, Peter is fine.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “Yeah, okay. Just let me get Tony.”

The information was relayed and Natasha replied, “Okay, but hurry. You know how Loki is.”

Conveniently, at that moment Peter stepped out of the elevator and warily said, “Hey pops.”

A sigh of relief escaped Steve’s lips as he decided which of the many emotions that were running through his head he should act on. When he couldn't decide he put on a neutral face, “Your father has been looking for you.”

Peter sheepishly propped his bag against the kitchen island before murmuring, “I know.” A grin spread across the kid’s face as he explained, “but I went down to the Royal Diner and got you guys food.” He presented the food which to Steve just looked like a lot of greasy carbs, exactly the kind of food Tony would enjoy. 

The kid started again, “It's their famous cheeseburger, dad’s favorite. And I didn't really know what you liked so I just got you some chicken, but then I was walking back home and passed a Subway, the restaurant,” Peter leaned down and pulled out a sub, “I figured you would like this better. Which, if I'm being honest, is for the best because I might have gotten a little hungry on the walk home.”

Steve just shook his head while a small amused smile spread on his face. He was about to reply when the doors to the elevator slid open again revealing a certain unhappy superhero, “I couldn't find hi…” He cut off as he noticed Peter standing in the kitchen holding up a cheeseburger as a peace offering. 

An incredulous look overcame his features, “He’s home, and you didn't think to let me know.”

The teenager sat the styrofoam box that held the burger on the table and rolled his eyes, “Relax dad, I just got here, but judging from the look on pops face you guys are about to be leaving.”

The billionaires head snapped towards Steve, “Did they find Loki?”

Reluctantly he replied, “Yeah, they're waiting for us right now.”

The soldier looked back to Peter, “We can't just leave him here alone.”

Said kid furrowed his eyebrows, “Why not? No offense, but you do all the time.”

Ignoring the teen Tony spoke up, “I think I know the perfect guy.”

 

~~~

A loud crash echoed throughout a Manhattan alley as the devil of Hell’s Kitchen threw a man into a dumpster.

Spinning around just in time to block an oncoming punch Daredevil head butted the other man unconscious and threw an aluminum pipe he had heard drumming against the metal dumpster. The pipe bounced off one guy's head and hit the others knocking them both unconscious. Just as Matt turned to take care of the last man his phone went off.  
“Stark, Stark, Stark,”

Without reacting the devil stalked forward until he was standing a foot in front of the man who was holding a knife in a shaky hand. The man whimpered, “Please don't hurt me.” He was barely even able to finish the sentence before Matt’s fist connected with his face. The hit sent him stumbling a couple feet back. Daredevil used the added space to fly kick him unconscious. After scaling up the nearby rooftop he dialed the police and then called Stark back.

“Hey Matt, I need a favor.”

Matt rolled his eyes while answering, “We've talked about this. There is no ‘superbro’ discount Tony.” The man must have the world record for lawsuits, and every time one came up you can guess who he'd call.

“No, no, not that kind of favor. You remember my son Peter.”

Matt laughed, “How could I forget?” When he'd first met Peter it was under… interesting, circumstances. Since then he'd seen him many times, mostly as Spider-man. Anytime the kid got in vigilante related trouble he would call Matt, or sometimes he would just show up. One night Matt had come home to find the kid passed out on the couch with a bullet lodged in his shoulder. He'd called Claire to come patch him up, and sent him home with some strong pain meds. Next time he saw him he'd given Peter quite the lecture. Matt hadn't seen the teen since. “What’s up?”

“Can you watch him for the week?”

Confused he asked, “You want me to babysit.”

“Just for the week.” He heard shuffling before Tony added in a whisper, “I’ll tell you more about it when you get here...Please.”

With a surprised tone Daredevil responded, “Well, if it's important enough that Tony Stark will say please, then I guess I can swing by. Give me 15 minutes.” With that he hung up and took off towards Stark tower.

Matt climb down the rooftop access stairs into his apartment. In no time at all he had stripped off the devil suit and changed into a pair of grey joggers and a dark t-shirt. Picking up his cane the blind man walked down even more stairs and made his way towards the street hoping he could catch a cab at four a.m.

Of course, this is New York we're talking about, so it wasn't long before one pulled up. The lawyer hopped in, said, “Stark tower,” and then dialed his best friend.

Foggy, being the good friend he is, picked up at the last possible second. He groggily questioned, “Why are you calling me so damn early in the morning Matt.”

With a chuckle he replied, “Sorry man, but I wanted to let you know that I can't come to the office tomorrow.”

Now completely awake Foggy questioned, “Why? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Murdock assured, “Foggy, I'm fine. Stark just needs a favor.”

There was notable excitement in his tone as he commented, “Stark, as in Tony Stark? Like freaking Ironman is calling in a personal favor.”

Matt laughed again, “Something like that Fog.” Then he hung up before Foggy could get any further, like wanting to help, or wanting to meet Tony.

It was more like thirty minutes, maybe even forty-five when Matt stepped through the elevator door to come face to face with an angry, unsuited Ironman. Steve Rogers was leaning against a wall behind him and from what Matt could tell, give him a break he is blind, the captain wasn't too happy either. 

“You were supposed to be here twenty damn minutes ago”

Rogers cleared his throat which earned a glare from Tony.

Listening carefully Matt found another heartbeat in the room. Judging by the slow tempo of the heart they seemed to be asleep, probably Peter.

Tuning back into Tony’s lecture, he interrupted, “Yeah, yeah. Just get to the point.”

The vigilante could feel as the genius brought his hands up to fake strangle him before turning and walking to his husband. Murdock just raised an eyebrow as Steve began, “Look, we are in sort of a hurry, we just need you to watch Peter for a couple days. We have reason to believe there is someone after him. I don't know who you are, but Tony says you can keep him safe.”

Nodding he stated, “Okay.”

With a furrowed brow Roger inquired, “Okay?” He turned and looked at Stark, “That's it, okay?”

With a shrug the smaller man replied, “Sure is Dorito, let's get going. I'd be surprised if Loki isn't halfway across the multiverse by now.”

Stark immediately left up the small stairway that was located just around the corner while Steve stared at their adopted son for a bit before walking over and placing a kiss on his forehead. Then, he followed behind to go get suited up and leave.

Matt sighed and went to sit on the couch opposite of the one Peter was snoozing away on. Figuring it would be really weird and sort of creepy to just sit and listen, doing absolutely nothing, he pretended to be asleep. As he laid stretched out he listened to Ironman and Captain America pound their way to the rooftop where Black Widow, Hawkeye, and the Hulk were waiting. They had a brief conversation before taking off. Matt could have swore the loud thundering of the helicopter was going to cause him to be deaf as well as blind.

That clearly wasn't the case though as he heard the slight intake of breathe from the boy laying across from him. Scratching of the blanket being pulled off was also heard, and the light, almost nonexistent even to Matt’s ears, taps of the kid pattering across the room. Daredevil decided to stay silent as he heard the sound of spandex being pulled on and the telltale sound of webshooters being clicked into place.

Murdock sat up and when the teen had snuck over to the elevator and pushed the button he finally decided to speak up, “You didn't seriously think you could sneak out past me did you?”

The kid jumped in surprise but was quick to retort, “What? I'm not sneaking out, I'm just… uh… sleep walking. Yeah, I'm sleepwalking.”  
When Matt didn't respond he continued on, “I'm sleep walking in your dreams, which you're having because you fell asleep on dad’s ridiculously comfortable couch.”

Making a noncommittal noise the lawyer responded, “First, this couch is like sandpaper,” He laughed at Peter’s fake gasp of hurt, but continued on, “and Secondly, I know you heard your parents. Someone is trying to hurt you.” 

The kid shook his head, “No, they're trying to hurt Peter Parker. The only person who knows I'm Spider-man is you.”

He sighed, “Fine, are you absolutely sure?”

With a smirk the kid answered, “100% positive!”

~~~

 

A few blocks away in an equally as tall skyscraper.

“Is he dead?”

“No sir, but I…”

“If he isn't dead, and he isn't here, than why would you think it was okay to come talk to me.”

“All do respect sir, but I don't think Deadpool was the right man for the job.”

“Deadpool is a professional, the best of the best, I think he can handle a naive, sixteen-year-old, superhero wanna be.”

“Yes sir, it's just that he might have been compromised, and if he ever found out you were lying to him he would kill us all.” 

“I haven't lied to him, just emitted certain truths. As for the other thing, I am aware, but as I said Deadpool is a professional. He’ll get the job done.”

“What if he learns who the kid is, or even more dire, how old he is?”

“Then we’ll handle it. I won't have a problem disposing of the mercenary and taking the kid for myself. In fact, that might be preferable considering Deadpool doesn't plan on bringing him in breathing.”

“Sir I…”

“Enough! Leave without another word or I'll allow Alistair to cut your tongue off like he's been begging to do for months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaa! Chapter two, and I have plans for chapter three. Thank you so much for all the comments. I smiled when I read every single one of them, and they really do keep me motivated.
> 
> By the way, I know there are some haters, but I absolutely LOVE Tom Holland. He is my Spider-man, so that is how I'm picturing him for this fic.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you liked it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter felt like it took literal ages to finish, but I finally got it done! It is super long (By my standards anyway). Seriously, I looked and together the first two chapters had 5,406 and this chapter had 5,407. How awesome is that! Anyway, I hope the length makes up for the wait!
> 
> Enjoy :)

As banal as it seems, Peter loved New York, and he loved being Spider-man. 

Hands down, the best things about it would be the rush of flipping into battle or web slinging through the massive buildings, but sometimes the teen would prefer to just watch.

There wasn't any particular place he frequented, just wherever he felt he should be. He couldn't even begin to guess how many hours he spent, feet dangling over the edge, watching as hundreds of cars, thousands of people, went on their way. 

The vigilante liked to think about what their lives were like. The tall men who were all sharp edges in their overpriced suits, the beautiful women who seemed in love with the shop windows, whether it was their reflection or what was inside that had caught their attention was always a mystery, but the regular everyday people, they were Peter's favorite. 

They always seemed to be ducking their way through the crowds. All of them seemed to struggle to hold that ‘don't mess with me’ effect, yet they still apologized when bumping into someone, still turned with a small smile on their face as children go rushing past. 

The shadows, as Peter had named them, are where he wanted to fit in. Where you get to do the good things, whether it be holding the door or paying for someone's coffee, but no one seems to take notice. 

No pressure to smile and put on a show, just good deeds for the sake of morality. 

His dads didn't seem to grasp this.

Sometimes the teen thinks that maybe they spend more time trying to clean up messes with the press than they do saving people's lives. Not that he could complain, they did more good in a day than he could ever hope too, but sometimes he wondered why they really do it. For Peter it was simple, ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, but he doubted it was that simple for everyone. 

Peter doesn't remember much about his life before Tony and Steve, but he never could forget his uncle. 

Uncle Ben had been his favorite person in this world. They did everything together, and Peter couldn't have dreamed up a better way to spend his day than laughing with Ben. 

When Peter was five he begged his uncle to take him to see some stupid monster truck show and Ben, never one to deny his poor nephew who had already been through so much, was happy to agree. It was that night after the show when they were walking back that everything went to shit. 

Little Peter had been ecstatic and bouncing off the walls. Literally, anytime there was an object he could climb up and then fly off you can bet he found it. 

He raced off down an alley when he saw a dumpster, it was bigger than the stairways and boxes that he found along the street, so of course, he went to go play on it. 

Uncle Ben raced down the alley after him trying to herd him the rest of the way home but was stopped in his tracks by a gun being held to his nephew’s head. 

Behind them, there were a dozen men loading something into trucks, but Ben didn't dwell on that. He made offer after offer, deal after deal, begging them to let Peter go. Eventually, they complied, and Peter remembered stomping as hard as he could on the man’s toe before running towards his uncle. 

Ben wasn't stupid and as soon as the child reached him he shoved him behind the dumpster. The image of what happened next was permanently seared into his mind. 

As he stumbled and fell there was a loud crack. The man who had previously been holding a gun to little Peter’s head had fired said gun at Uncle Ben.

Peter can still remember watching as crimson spread across his uncle’s white t-shirt and the sound of tires squealing that followed shortly after. 

Too scared to leave his position, Peter curled in on himself and cried as he watched his uncle fade away. 

About ten minutes later sirens could be heard not far away and he decided it was safe to step out. At the time, the boy hadn’t understood why his uncle was still laid out, still and pale. He tried shaking him but was pulled away by police and paramedics as they arrived on scene. 

With everyone so focused on Uncle Ben, Peter was the first to notice a small vial of neon yellow liquid laying behind a pile of cardboard boxes. 

Peter had pattered over and picked up the small glass. Not understanding the implications of where it came from he tucked in his pocket before being taken away by some police officers. 

The drive back to his house was kind of a blur. Peter remembered the officer trying to talk to him, but doesn’t remember ever replying. 

He was taken home and sent to his room as they talked to Aunt May. 

Poking his head around the corner he watched the exchange. When the officer looked up and made eye contact the boy ducked back into his bedroom. 

The last thing he remembered of that night was clumsily climbing up on his desk and hiding the small vial in his vent which had been loose for as long as he could remember. 

Uncle Ben hadn’t made it to the hospital, and shortly after receiving the news, Aunt May followed with a heart attack. Peter had bounced around in the system and the vial was long lost to one of the not so nice foster parents. 

When he was six, almost seven, was when Tony and Steve adopted him. They saved him from being hit by a car some villain was flinging around, and, after learning of his circumstances, had taken him in. 

Peter still couldn’t figure out why they did it, what would two of the most powerful people in the world want with some snot-nosed brat like him? 

Whatever it was, he was glad for it. They were the absolute best parents, other than Aunt May and Uncle Ben, that Peter had ever had, which was saying something, because in the two years he’d been in foster care he’d gone through many, some nice, most not.

 

A gunshot broke through his thoughts and snapped him from his memories and into action. 

Spider-man took off after the sound and found a lone guy standing in an alley gun in hand. It seemed pretty fishy, but Spidey flipped in nonetheless, “Hope you have a permit for that thing.”

The man was tall, probably around 6’3, and not so thin. A mass of orange-red tangles sat on top of his head and nearly black eyes were focused in on the arachnid-themed hero, “Spider-man! I was hoping you’d be the one to find me. It seems none of the other heroes care about petty thefts.”

With a shrug Spidey stood his ground, “Someone has to take out the trash. Might as well be me.”

The man laughed, “Yes, well, you see I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, and I believe now is as good a time as any. You’ve taken something from me. Something I will do anything to get back, so let’s be reasonable, you give me what I want, and I let you, your Avenger parents, and your little friends, what were their names, Gwen, Mary-Jane, and Harry, I believe, live.”

Peter swallowed hard at the mention of his personal life. Maybe he had unknowingly lied to Matt...Oops. 

Not letting the fear take hold he quipped, “Tell me something gingee, does your butt ever get jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth?”

The redhead rolled his eyes and a sly smile crept onto his face, “Joke all you’d like Spider-man, but I’ve brought a present from a mutual friend.”

“Ooh ooh, is it a pony? I hope it’s a pony.” He probably should have focused more on dodging the kangaroo kick he got to the face instead of making that quip, but that’ll be tomorrow Peter’s problem. Plus, he did say joke all you want. How could Spidey let him down?

Once the hero started to actually pay attention, he easily dodged the rest of the man’s attacks. Even this weird one where he zig-zagged right past Spidey and up on a dumpster. Then he jumped off in what Peter suspected was an attempt to body slam him, but I think you can guess how that turned out for the redhead. Here's a hint; not well.

After climbing back to his feet the man pulled a gun on Spider-man and admitted, “I'm done playing games. Give me what I want!”

Peter slowly turned sideways in order to make himself a smaller target. Then he held his hands up in a surrender position, “I really don't know what you're talking about, but I think you should leave playing with the big boy toys to the mentally stable.”

The hero then shot out two webs. One at the gun that sent it flying against the wall, and the other at what looked like the back of a toilet, but uh… probably wouldn’t put any money on that one. He swung the unknown object at the ginger’s head, knocked him unconscious, and webbed him to the ground. 

He did all this in a matter of seconds, and as he finished up a voice chimed in from the mouth of the alley, “Well if that's the case, you free tonight Spidey because I’m gonna need someone sane to play with my big boy toy.”

Instantly recognizing the voice as Deadpool’s the vigilante rolled his eyes and turned to face him, “First off, gross! Secondly, what are you even doing here?”

The merc practically bounced over to Peter and threw an arm over his shoulder, “Oh, don’t be like that, it’s not like I wouldn’t return the favor. And I’m offended you don’t remember your offer, that only happened, like what, four hours ago. Maybe you’re brain’s just as fucked up as mine. Though I doubt that cause…”

The rest of Deadpool’s spiel was cut off by his Spidey sense ringing through his head.

Quickly reacting to the warning Spider-man grabbed Deadpool and pulled them both to the ground at the same time as the crack of a gun echoed through the alley.

~~~

Deadpool wasn’t following him. 

Not at first anyway.

Actually, he was going to talk to Weasel about this sweet rocket launcher that just showed up on the market when he heard a gunshot. Not really caring the Merc with a Mouth continued on his way, that was until he saw a certain red a blue figure swing by. And honestly, how could he not be expected to chase after Spidey after the total invitation he gave him last night/morning. 

[He was just being nice.]

{That’s more than what we usually get. I say we take it and run.}

“Gotta say, I’m with yellow on this one.”

{Yes!! Follow that booty!}

He did ‘follow the booty’ which led him to some dirty alley, and not the usual dirty alley type, but like extremely dirty alley type.

[Thanks for that insight into your brain. You’re a real man of words.]

“I’m a poet, and don’t I know it.”

[Pretty sure that’s not how that goes.]

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask.”

[Pretty sure I don’t care if you asked.]

{Pretty sure I’m going to be having fantasies about Spidey for some time. Did you see that flip, and those webs, just think how much fun he must be in bed.}

Snapping his fingers Deadpool pulled his focus back to Spider-man’s fight. He had been standing around the corner staying out of sight, but as the wallcrawler quipped, “I really don't know what you're talking about, but I think you should leave playing with the big boy toys to the mentally stable.” He just couldn’t resist making a comment.

Coming around the corner and strolling into the alley Deadpool responded, “Well if that's the case, you free tonight Spidey because I’m gonna need someone sane to play with my big boy toy.”

The boxes shouted at the same time,   
{Yes!}  
[Bleh!]

As the hero replied Deadpool could practically hear the eye roll, “First off, gross! Secondly, what are you even doing here?”

Smiling at the fact that Spidey actually acknowledged him, that usually didn’t happen unless it was with a varying degree of violence, the merc cheerily hopped over and slung an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, fully expecting it to be immediately shrugged off, and started his rant, “Oh, don’t be like that, it’s not like I wouldn’t return the favor. And I’m offended you don’t remember your offer, that only happened, like what, four hours ago. Maybe you’re brain’s just as fucked up as mine. Though I doubt that cause mine’s pretty screwy, but hey…”

He was unable to finish as Spidey curled his body into Deadpool’s and then dropped like a stone dragging Wade down with him. A loud gunshot accompanied the thud of their bodies hitting the ground and as soon as he hit the merc was rolling out from underneath Spider-man. Pulling Ernie from one of his many holsters he fired once at the stout brunette who was firmly planted on the other side of the alley. Hitting him square between the eyes, the man dropped as dead as a doorknob.

“Yikes! That was close, good thing ma boi Spidey has my back right?”

When a reply didn’t come the anti-hero glanced at the vigilante who still hadn’t moved and was laying face down on the asphalt.

“Spidey?”  
“Hey Webs, come on that can’t be comfortable.”

Placing a hand on Spider-man’s shoulder he gently rolled him over. He took in the blood that was coating the side of his masked face and cursed, “Shit! No, no, no, no, no, come on baby boy.” Tapping the boy’s face, he still didn’t receive a response, “Wake up!” Another tap, “Seriously, you need to wake up or I’m going to have to take you back to my place. Which sounds like fun except it smells like sauerkraut was barfed up by a whale, then eaten by a dog, digested, pooped out, and left to rot.” When Spider-man still didn’t reply Deadpool gave a quick warning before lifting him into his arms, “Suit yourself, up we go baby boy.”

Without wasting a second Wade secured Spidey in his arms and took off for his apartment in Harlem.

It really wasn’t that far of a trip, but the time it took to reach his current home seemed tripled by the unconscious superhero in his arms.

When he finally reached his building he climbed the steps to the third floor ignoring the look he received from Mr. Finch, the man who lived across the hall from him.

Wade found it slightly alarming that he was able to hold the man with one arm while he unlocked the door and pushed it open, but decided he could worry about that after he made sure the kid wasn’t about to croak on him. 

Deadpool really wasn’t joking about how terrible his apartment smelled. He had to fight back the urge to gag as he inhaled the stale air. In his defense he really wasn’t here that often, and who had time for cleaning anyway?

Despite the smell, the merc carried the smaller hero and laid him carefully on his heavily stained couch, “I don’t think you’ll catch a disease from that, but honestly, what do I know.”

[Not much]

“Get out.” After growling at his box he kneeled next to Spider-man and tilted his head towards him, “I’m really sorry about this baby boy, but I kind of need to take the mask off.”

Knowing he wouldn’t receive a reply he gently pried the mask off the younger man’s face being extremely careful around where the source all the blood was. Avoiding looking at Spidey’s features he went to work on the wound. 

On the bright side, it looked like the bullet just grazed him, on the not so bright side it was still gushing blood and Wade didn’t have anything clean enough to trust to use as a bandage. 

Looking around the cleanest thing in the apartment seemed to be Spidey…

[Oh man the kid is going to KILL us when he wakes up]

Sighing because he knew that was the truth Deadpool pulled out one of his smaller knives and used it to remove the top of Spider-man’s costume and the cut some strips off of it.

As he stood up to grab some vodka he knew he had shoved somewhere he really couldn’t help when his eyes lingered on the younger man’s abs.

{Man! Spidey’s ripped!}

Closing his eyes and returning to his task he once again ignored the man’s facial features, but as he finished with the makeshift bandage and cleaned up all the blood that was caked on the web-slinger’s face he finally took Spidey’s slack face in. 

{And gorgeous!}

And young. Seriously there’s no way the kid was out of his teens. If Wade had to guess he’d say seventeen or eighteen, but that would be ridiculous, because some of the scars on his chest seemed like they were years old, and what kind of kid became a superhero when he was fourteen.

Then it really hit him. This was Spider-man, the same Spider-man who he’d had some very inappropriate dreams about, the same Spider-man he constantly hit on, the same Spider-man who is a fucking teenager and Deadpool was being all pervy with.

[You piece of shit.]

{Have I mentioned he’s gorgeous.}

“Fuck kid, I’m so sorry. You must get sick just thinking about me.” Rubbing his hands across his face he stood up from his position crouched by the couch, “I’m going to go get some actual bandages,” he looked around before adding, “and maybe some cleaning supplies, but I’ll be back soon and uh…” he sighed, “yeah.”

Then he practically ran out of his apartment only stopping to lock the door behind him. Once he’d made it out of the building he casually walked past a nice looking couple only to vomit in the potted plant they just passed, “I’m such a fucking piece of trash. I was going to kill him… I was hired to kill him.”

He remembered his ‘employer’ saying something about working the angles of the hero’s identity. Deadpool really hadn’t cared at the time. He didn’t need to know what the man running around in spandex did during the day, but if Norman knew who he was, then he knew his age, which means he knowingly sent Wade to kill a minor.

Rage coursed through his veins as he spun and punched the brick wall above the pot he just threw up in. Feeling the bones in his hand shatter had a calming effect on the merc. There was nothing he could do about this now except go get the stuff to care for Spidey. 

Later though, later he was going to kill Norman Osborn.

 

It took Deadpool a little over an hour to find everything he needed before he headed home. He’d gotten gauze and bandages, Neosporin, he wasn’t sure if that was necessary but it seemed like a good idea, a bottle of Advil, eight bottles of Lysol, six bottles of bleach, and a black t-shirt and gray sweats that he thought looked to be in Spidey’s size. 

As he reentered his apartment impossibly carrying everything he’d bought it one trip he’d quickly walked across the room to dump it out on the counter not even noticing that a certain spider was awake and sitting up on the couch.

It wasn’t until he’d asked, “You need some help with that?” that Wade had taken notice of his presence. 

When he did he nearly jumped out of his skin, “Holy crap Spidey you’re up.”

The kid just blinked at him a couple times with his huge brown doe eyes, “You need some help with that?”

Glancing at the numerous bags Deadpool rushed, “Gods no! I don’t… I… You need to rest baby boy, then we need to talk.”

Looking confused he blinked dazedly at him a few more times before questioning, “Talk?” He finally removed his piercing gaze from Wade and glanced at the bags, “You need some help with that?”

Wade swallowed nervously, “You’re really starting to worry me there Spidey. You feeling okay?”

Another slow blink, and another. Then he just kept his eyes closed for a bit. Now extremely worried he went to go crouch in front of the kid, “Spidey?”

That caused his eyes to shoot open and Wade watched with concern as they seemed to have trouble focusing on him. Finally, the kid responded, “You need some help wi…” Spidey shook his head, “I’ve said that already.”

It was a statement, but it sounded close enough to a question that Wade felt obligated to answer, “Yeah, three times baby boy. Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

Spider-man shook his head viciously, “No! No hospital. If dad found out he’d kill me… and probably you, and Matt, and me. No hospital. If dad found out he’d kill me… and prob… damn, said that, sorry.” 

He brought a shaky hand to rub at his face and Deadpool could pinpoint the exact minute realization dawned on him. Spider-man scrambled onto the back of the couch, then did some kind of weird twist roll off it that landed him on his ass where he continued to scramble backward. 

Wade knew his head had to be killing him, and his okayness was definitely questionable, but still he managed to stand up on his own, cover his face, and when he spoke his voice even managed to hold a little venom, “What the hell! Where’s my mask? And where is my shirt?” He glanced around and squeezed his eyes shut, “What the hell! And I know I already said that I just felt it should be repeated.”

When he had stopped his panic attack Deadpool tried to explain, “You were fighting some guy in an alley when I showed up. I distracted you and a second guy shot at us. In the time it took for you get where you could pull me down with you I’m sure you could have easily dodged completely, but you’re too much of a goody-two-shoes for your own good and the bullet grazed you. I packed you back here to take care of you, but I had to remove the mask. Then I needed something to stop the bleeding, but if you didn’t notice this place is a mess, so I, uh… I had to use your shirt. I thought you were alright, but now you’re acting funny and repeating things and this is my fault, and I’m so sorry.”

The kid just blinked at him for a couple seconds and Wade considered that maybe he shouldn’t have completely barreled through his explanation like he did, but then the kid responded, “I… I don’t really remember any of that, but I’m okay, and surely it can’t really be all your fault.” Then he shot him a bright smile, and glanced back at the bags, “I know I’ve said this five times now, but you haven’t really answered so, ‘You need some help with that?’”

Deadpool squinted his eyes, no way in hell was everything okay that quick and easy.

He made his way over the counter to pull out the clothes he’d bought and cautiously handed them to the younger man, “I think I’ve got it, but here are some clothes. You can change in the bathroom down the hall,” Spidey headed in that direction, but paused to nod a yes when Wade asked, “You sure everything's okay?” 

While Spidey was changing Deadpool somehow managed to find a place to store all the cleaning junk he’d bought and set out the stuff for the kid’s head. 

When he took a while to get changed Wade started cleaning. He began with the stained couch scrubbing vigorously in attempts to get all the blood and who know what else. 

He’d finally started to do some good when Spider-man came out. Despite him getting a small the clothes were still too big and made him look even younger.

When Spidey realized what Wade was doing he shook his head, “You don’t have to do that you know. Not for me anyway.” Then he continued to look around and noticed the stuff on the island, “You wanna fix me up? I feel pretty stupid with red and blue spandex wrapped around my head.”

Deadpool nodded and abandoned the cleaning supplies, “Sure thing baby boy.”

As he peeled the costume off his head he asked, “How’s it feel?”

With a grimace, Spidey replied, “Like someone tried to drive an ice pick through my skull, but I’ll be fine.”

Nodding once again Wade resumed working he cleaned it up again, with actual medicine this time, placed the gauze, and wrapped the white bandage around Spidey’s unruly brown locks.

Sighing Deadpool finished and took a step back, “Spidey, I’m really sor…”

The vigilante cut him off, “Peter.”

Wade’s eyes widened as he stuttered, “Wh, what?”

[Smooth.]

A sly smile stretched across ‘Peter’s’ face, “My name is Peter, and if you apologize again I might punch you. Which would probably be more painful for me than you, so help a brother out, zip it, and show me your movie collection.”

A smile stretched out across Wade’s face, “Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that.”

Peter snorted and glanced at his feet before looking back up with a matching grin. He opened his mouth to respond, but his grin faltered and he shook his head, “You know, I swear under usual circumstances I would have a hundred Supernatural quotes at the ready, but I'm really not feeling at my best right now.”

“S’alright baby boy me and Netflix are going to re-educate you. You up for some binge watching?”

It took everything Wade had to not snort at Peter’s incredulous look, “There’s no way we’ll be able to make it through all eleven seasons.”

“Not with that attitude we won’t.” He jerked his head towards the couch, “C’mon, I'll let you sit on the unstained half of the couch.”

Rolling his eyes, something Wade noticed he seemed to do a lot, Peter slid off the counter and headed towards the couch trying, and failing, to conceal a wince, “Thanks, but most of the stains were probably my fault anyway, and you did clean it up so I think it's only fair…” With that, he plopped down on the not cleaned half and gestured for Wade to sit where it was clean.

Not having it Deadpool responded, “You’re the one who saved my life.”

Shrugging the teen dismissed, “Eh, you would have healed.”

Still not sitting the merc questioned, “Then why’d you do it?”

Peter’s eyes flitted to his briefly before flicking back to the black tv, “I don't know, I just figure even if you do heal it still hurts.”

“Yeah, it does, but like you said, I heal. You, baby boy, don't”

Another shrug, “It's fine. I'm fine. So, sit down, shut up, and let's watch something good before I pass out.”

Reluctantly Wade sat down on the clean side of the couch and sighed, “Fine, just one question.”

Folding his legs up beneath him Peter turned to Wade and replied, “Shoot.”

“How old are you?”

With a sigh and no break in eye contact, Peter shot back, “Try again.”

Shaking his head Deadpool restated, “Seriously, how old are you.”

Clearing his throat Peter shrugged, “It really doesn’t matter, or it shouldn't anyway. I can handle myself.”

“That…” Deadpool sighed, “That's not what I meant. I know you can fight, I've seen it, but you can't be over twenty baby boy. You shouldn't have to have this kind of weight on your shoulders.”

The kid rolled his eyes again, “If I give you a number will you let it go?”

Nodding eagerly Wade replied, “Promise.”

Peter nodded and bit the inside of his lip while looking everywhere but at Wade. Finally, his eyes settled back on the blank tv screen and he answered, “Sixteen.”

Wade’s jaw dropped. Sure that was around the age he’d guessed, but honestly, he’d figured he was just one of those guys who looked young. Deadpool couldn’t help but repeat with a stutter, “Sixteen?”

Without looking away from the tv the kid fired, “Yeah, sixteen. So how about we let this go now?”

With a glance at Peter, he shook his head, but answered, “Sure thing baby boy.” He made the drop mic gesture and continued, “Letting it go.” Then he clenched his jaw and turned back towards the tv. How could he let that go? The kids going to get himself killed before he even graduates high school. 

Deadpool finally flicked on the tv and scanned through Netflix until he found Supernatural. He turned on the very first episode and tried to focus on it, not the kid sitting next to him.

[Come on man, get a grip! You were ready to cap him less than twelve hours ago.]

{But it’s true love!}

Wade made a weird sound. Kinda of like the noise you make when you read ‘?!’ but a bit more Scooby Doo like. He tried to cover it with a laugh, but that seemed an unlikely reaction to, “When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45!” The kid didn’t seem to notice though, so Wade continued his inner dialogue. 

Nu-uh! Nothing loving about this. I just feel bad that I’d planned to blow his brains out.

[Oh sure, and I’m here for the laughs.]

{And you’ve totally never checked out his ass.}

That was before I knew he was still in diapers.

{Phtt, like that matters. We’d still totally fuck him.}

No! No, we definitely would not!

[Really what does it matter. We’re already a thief and a murderer, not to mention totally bonkers. Why not add child molester to the list?]

{Child Molester implies Spidey wouldn’t be willing. Let’s go with a pedophile, or cougar! Can a dude be considered a cougar!}

[Hell if I know, and do you really think Spidey would be willing to do this. One look at the lugs face and he’d be running off to a new galaxy.]

{That’s true, but fantasy Spidey is totally consensual.}

[I don’t think that counts.]

{It’s good enough for me…}

Deadpool shook his head in an attempt to derail his and his boxes train of thought. When that didn’t do it he glanced around for a distraction. 

With a sigh he let his eyes drift to Peter who was curled in a tight ball on the end of the couch. Sometime during Wade’s argument with White and Yellow he had fallen asleep.

[Man his game is weak. We didn’t even get to see blue steel.]

Is that even in this episode?

[We don’t even know our own birthday. How are we expected to know that?]

Wade just rolled his eyes in response and rose up off the couch. He went to find a semi-decent pillow and blanket and ended up just bringing him one of his pillows and a blanket that smelled oddly of chicken nuggets.

After wrapping up the sixteen-year-old, Wade crawled into his own bed hoping he could catch at least a couple hours before the nightmares started. 

It didn’t make it that far because after just about thirty minutes of sleep Deadpool was snapped out of his only slightly inappropriate dreams by something crashing through the window in the living room.

Jumping off the bed Deadpool shot towards the closet where he kept all his weapons, but tripped over the blanket that had become tangled around his feet.

When he finally got himself picked up off the floor and untangled, he grabbed his katanas and rushed out towards the living room, towards Peter.

He didn’t even make it five feet out of his bedroom door before he was being shoved up against the wall a knife to his throat.

Wade swallowed hard as he looked into the red eyes of the Devil.

“Where is Peter Parker?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you could probably tell, I definitely failed at not making this into a Spideypool fic. But oh well because I'm kind of in love with this chapter. I really hope you liked it as much as I do!
> 
> I know it sounds cheesy when I say that comments and kudos keep me motivated, but they really do. I was seriously considering dropping this fic, but I got on and checked and I had like 40 or so kudos and I kind of just squealed and knew I had to continue. Basically, thanks for your love!!!!
> 
> Toodles!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I really thought I would be able to finish this chapter quicker, but no such luck. I kind of thought that since I didn't have to take finals I could just finish in the time I would've been studying. That didn't happen. I'm gonna be honest and say I lost interest. Most of this chapter is in Matt's pov and I just couldn't get into it. So, to get myself in the spirit I did the only rational thing and binge watched Daredevil. I think I finished it in two days after that. ;)  
> By the way, who's siked for the Defenders? I know I am!!!!!
> 
> Enjoy!

Matt rolled his eyes as Peter disappeared into the elevator. With a sigh, he rose from his position on the couch to follow the teen. Peter might think he’ll be fine, but there was no way Matt was going to let the kid go swinging around without some supervision. 

He’d brought a duffle bag with him to the tower when he had come and in it was his Daredevil suit. Watching the elevator’s floor number decline he quickly slipped on the suit and followed via an emergency stairwell that let out on the third floor.

The idea was anyone in the tower who knew about the stairwell could easily take a three story drop. Except for Peter that is. Matt knew Peter could handle it as well, probably better than most, but Tony and Steve didn’t so there were all kinds of emergency procedures in place for the poor kid. 

As much as the devil respected Stark and Rogers, and he did though sometimes it didn’t show, the two way over do the protective parents gig. Well… to be fair they don’t know he is a highly capable, superpowered vigilante, but still, any kid needs at least a little slack.

While all these thoughts continued on in his mind, Daredevil silently slipped out onto the street and started following Peter.

Matt lost him not even ten minutes in. 

The devil was standing on a rooftop in Harlem, his hands on his knees, panting slightly. Not to brag, but Matt was in amazing shape. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt that out of breath feeling of stitches in his side. Sure enough though.

When he caught his breath he rose back into a standing position and muttered to himself, “Damn I feel sorry for anyone trying to tail the kid.”

Which was the truth. If Matt had realized just how hard it would be to follow the kid then maybe he wouldn’t have let him leave.

Seriously, the kid had to be swinging at least 30mph if not more. Plus, you can’t just follow on rooftops because he swings on across roads. Add in the fact the Matt couldn’t actually see the bright red and blue figure and was only tracking him by sound. Well, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly an enjoyable experience.

With a sigh Matt stepped up to the ledge of the small building, it smelt like it could be some kind of Mexican restaurant, and tried to locate the kid. The sun had risen and he heard gasps and whispered conversations as people noticed him. They probably thought he was suicidal, but he didn’t really care because at that moment he heard a gunshot ring out a couple blocks away. 

Stepping off the ledge, Daredevil took a running start and jumped onto the next roof over, then the next, then the next, and so on. 

When the devil finally caught up enough where he could hear sounds of fighting he was standing in an alley probably about three or four building to the left. 

With his back pressed against the wall, Matt listened as whoever the man Pete was fighting told him that he was done playing games. The vigilante didn’t worry too much, however, because judging from how the fight had been going earlier, Peter could kick this guys ass with his hands tied behind his back. 

Still listening intently Matt heard Peter say some stupid quip about big boy toys and just rolled his eyes. At that same time his phone rang, “Stark, Stark, Stark,”

He answered the call with a “Yep?”

Tony’s voice answered back, but something seemed… off about it, “Hey Matt. How’s it going?”

“You really think I can’t handle babysitting? Have you ever met my best friend?” Matt teased while still trying to listen in on Spidey’s fight. 

There were two more people in the alley now, but Peter acted like he knew them, so Murdock continued his conversation...Or tried to anyway because about that time another gunshot rang out. Even without super hearing Matt would’ve heard this one.

In a panic, he peeked around the corner of the building. Another shot went off and Matt ducked back behind.

He had pulled the phone away from his ear, but could still hear Tony shouting, “What the hell! Was that a gunshot? Matt! Matt!?”

Trying to push down his own concern Matt appeased, “Tony it’s fine just some video game Peter got me playing.”

Not believing the lie, Tony replied, “You’re blind Matt.”

“I think if I can take down real life criminals than I can handle a few digital ones.” Matt peeked out again, “Anyway, not that the check up isn’t sweet and all, but I got to go.”

He almost hung up when Tony shouted across the line, “Wait! Matt, you need to listen to me Loki is…”

The devil quit listening after that because he realized he no longer heard anyone in the alley, “Yeah great, got it. I really have to go now.” This time he did hang up.

Matt took off running down the street not caring about the stares he was definitely receiving. 

As he slid into the previously occupied alley the first thing he noticed was the dead body at the other end and some man who Peter had obviously webbed to the wall.

He took slow deliberate steps towards the redhead who had been webbed up. The man looked scared half to death as Daredevil got closer and closer.

He stopped his approach however when something wet squelched under his foot. Cocking his head to the side he knelt down and ran a gloved finger through the thick liquid. 

Until then he had wrote off the coppery smell to the man who had a bullet lodged between his eyes, but it was becoming increasingly clear someone else was injured, probably Peter.

He let out a deep breath to calm his racing heart and continued his stalk to the unfortunate ginger.

Using the hand that had blood on it, he grabbed the man’s chubby face and yanked it where the kid had no choice but to look into the devil’s red eyes.

“Where is Spider-man?”

The kid answered his growl by trying to shake his head. When that didn’t suffice he stuttered out, “Listen I really don’t know, some mercenary took him.”

“What mercenary? And what was he doing here?”

The ginger tried to turn his head again but Matt yanked it back smearing Peter’s blood across his cheek. In response the man whimpered, “Please you don’t know what he’ll do to me.”

Daredevil looked away and nodded as if in consideration. Then he licked his lips and leaned in so he was right next to the man’s ear, “I think you should be more worried about what I’m going to do to you.” Then to really drive the point to home he punched the guy across the jaw.

As Matt leaned away the kid hung his head, then answered, “Okay! Okay, fine. My boss,” He rushed to add, “I don’t know who he is. I’ve never seen him in person, but he said that Spider-man has something that belongs to him. He offered an award to anyone who got it back. I wasn’t going to take the job, but then my frien…” He trailed off and glanced at the prone form at the end of the alley. 

The devil squeezed his face tighter to get him to continue, “Then my friend found out about who he really was. You know like behind the mask. I don’t know how he did it, but we had planned to jump him on his way to school. Except the kid showed up in the suit. We kind of winged it from there, but then some costumed merc showed up. I’d heard that the boss had called in some fancy merc so I just figured he was on our side.” He glanced back to the fallen brunette, but continued, “I was wrong.”

“Spider-man he uh… He got shot. The merc talked to him like they knew each other, then said he was taking him back to his place. That’s all I know. I swear!”

Matt nodded his head gave the redhead two hard pats on his right cheek. Then, he turned and started back to the street only to be interrupted by a shout, “Wait! Wait, get me down from here… Please!”

Without stopping he replied over his shoulder, “Police will be here to cut you down in 3.” 

He ignored any further cries and walked away, but only went as far as the next building over. From there he climbed up to the roof and jumped over to where he could watch the caught man. He didn’t want to chance him getting down before the police showed.

When the first responders arrived, man with response times like that no wonder crime was so high, Matt left. 

By left he really just scanned the block before settling back on top of that taco shop in Harlem. He pulled out his phone and hit 1. 

This time it only took two rings before Foggy picked up, “What’s up Matt?”

“I need a favor.”

“A favor for Matt Murdock or for Daredevil?”

Matt sighed before answering, “A favor for a sixteen-year-old who’s life could be on the line.”

Instantly sobering Foggy replied, “What do you need.”

“Do you still have access to the feeds outside of that old bar on ninth street?”

“Yeah, I’m pulling them up now. What am I looking for?”

“A mercenary and Spider-man.”

Matt could hear Foggy’s jaw drop, “Spider-man! Spider-man is a fricken sixteen-year-old.”

“Focus Foggy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a long pause before a curse came across the line. 

Dread settled in Matt’s gut as he asked, “What did you find.”

A stiff cough echoed through the phone before Foggy replied, “How familiar are you with the mercenary Deadpool?”

“I’ve been unfortunate enough to meet him.”

“Yeah well, so has Spidey. I’ll call when I find them.”

“Thanks, Fog.”

The two friends traded goodbyes and Matt hung up to start his own search.

There was a reason vigilantes only seemed to do their work at night. Not only was the crowded streets messing with Daredevil’s senses, but he’d be walking and out of nowhere people crowd him for pictures. But even that was better than the times the cops caught sight of him. One time they chased him for twelve blocks.

Needless to say, in the three hours it took Foggy to call him back, Matt had made absolutely no progress.

When his phone finally rang he was running from some lady who claimed she was pregnant with his baby. I mean what the hell aren’t people supposed to be afraid of him.

He answered the ring as he jumped up and pulled himself onto a fire escape, “What you got?”

“They’re in some shitty apartment in east Harlem. Corner of 5th and Edwards. Actually it's right next to Me Gusta, best tacos in New York!”

“Thanks, Fog. I’ll see about grabbing you some.”

“You’re the best!”

“I try. See you around.”

Daredevil really just wanted to head over there now to grab the kid, but it was pushing noon and if Deadpool wanted to hurt Peter he’d have done it in the alley, or in the hours that the devil had been searching.

Instead, the devil of Hell’s Kitchen paced around his apartment for several hours waiting for the sun to set. 

And, of course, as soon as Daredevil was ready to go save Peter he heard some little girl screaming for help.

He stood at his window debating for some time who to go to. It was a battle of ‘You can’t leave a child to suffer.’ and ‘You’re in charge of Peter. If anything happens to him...’

Eventually, Matt decided and scrubbed a hand down his face before pulling on the devil’s cowl.

He shot up the stairs to the roof and launched himself in the direction of the crying girl.

When he caught up to her she was in the back of some asshole’s trunk. 

The need to punch someone rose in him as he realized that the car was headed in the opposite direction of Peter and he couldn’t just stop it like he had done with Fisk’s transport vehicle because it could hurt the little girl. 

This left him following the vehicle all the way down to Chinatown. As soon as the vehicle screeched to a stop behind some old noodle shop he jumped down beside the car and opened the driver’s door. Pulling out the man he slung him to the ground and punched him unconscious. 

As the other three climbed out to try to help he threw one of his sticks so that it would bounce off two of their heads and they hit the ground also unconscious. Then he turned to the last one who was backing away and took off running towards him. Once he got close he spin kicked him until he too fell to the ground out cold.

Quickly he pried the trunk open and grabbed the sobbing girl. With her in his arms, he took off down the streets until he spotted a police officer patrolling the area.

Sitting her on the ground he pointed out the officer and told her to go tell him what happened. As soon as she nodded in understanding he disappeared into the crowd.

By the time he crossed Manhattan to reach Harlem it was around midnight. Twelve whole hours of knowing where Peter was and doing absolutely nothing about it.

On top of all that was the fact the taco shop Foggy had mentioned, Me Gusta, was the same shop he’d been on twice that day. Cursing himself he tried to figure out why he couldn’t pick up Peter or Deadpool, or anyone in that apartment building for that matter. 

Letting out a deep breath time seemed to slow as he focused his senses in on the building. All he got in return was a fuzzy static like an amplified version of that of the billboard outside his house. 

Rolling his shoulders he went to work climbing from window to window. Most he could pass by at the smell of an apple pie sitting out on the counter or the too strong odor of old lady perfume. 

There were two apartments though that smelled strongly of gunpowder, metal, and blood.

In one of the apartments, Daredevil could just barely pick out two faint heartbeats. Both held an irregular pace, but one seemed sluggish, like the person was only just hanging onto life. 

Matt almost charged in when the smooth voice of the injured man whispered, “I’m fine. You don’t need to stick around.”

The voice didn’t belong to Peter and wasn’t anywhere near rough enough to belong to Deadpool, so before the second person could reply Daredevil was crashing through the second apartment’s window.

He could feel the presence of a small bowie knife on the table a few feet away, and picking it up he made his way towards the sound of crashing. The curses were loud enough that Daredevil wouldn’t have needed his enhanced senses to figure out what was coming his way.

Stopping his approach he ducked behind the wall at the end of the hall and waited for a leather clad Deadpool to come rushing out.

Shoving the larger man against the wall he growled, “Where is Peter Parker?”

Deadpool put his hands up in mock surrender, “Chillax Luci, he's on the couch.”

Digging the knife into his throat Matt replied deliberately, “I suggest you take a peek at your couch, then reconsider your answer.”

The merc’s mask expressed his legit surprise at the unoccupied couch, “I swear webs was there when I went to bed.” Wheels could be heard turning in his head and Deadpool’s hand shot up to wrestle Daredevil for the knife. When their positions had been reversed Deadpool continued, “Ya know Yellow has a point. Maybe I should be asking you what you did with drea… No, I don’t think that's appropriate... I really thought we were off this… I’ve heard it both ways…”

The devil used Deadpool’s mumbling as a distraction as he returned them to their original roles. 

Before either vigilante could further act the door was swung open and Peter stepped in cautiously closing the door behind him, “Umm… Hey?” The kid gave a sparse wave.

Glancing between Peter and Deadpool, Matt questioned, “What the hell?” at the same time the merc asked, “Where have you been?”

The kid held up a hand and approached them like they were wild animals. It was then that he realized he was still holding a knife against Deadpool’s throat. Backing away slowly he let the hand with the knife fall loosely to his side, “What’s going on?” Then following Deadpool’s line of questioning he added, “Where were you?”

The young vigilante plopped onto the couch that smelled unsettling similar to death before he answered, “Kind of a long story, but basically some badass got the crap beat out of him, refused to go to the hospital, and his friend really didn’t know how to help, so I patched him up. He actually reminded me of you, Matt.” The kid trailed off before tagging on, “Oh and they bought me new clothes. No offense DP, but the ones you got were on the big side and from what I gathered they had money to spare.”

The mentioned merc snorted, “So what, you saved Batman’s life and in return he bought you jeans and a ridiculously nerdy t-shirt? You’d think you’d at least score a ride in the batmobile.”

Peter replied with a chuckle, “I didn’t know Batman traded the cape for a suit, and the t-shirt isn’t nerdy.”

Daredevil watched silently as they continued their banter, “Are you kidding me? Listen D squared I heard through the pickle plant you’re blind so let me just explain this to you,” The devil raised an unseen eyebrow at the mention of his blindness, but let the merc push on, “Aight so you know on those stupid worksheets you had to do in school where it would be like 1.) Yada Yada Yada. Well, it’s set up like that, and it says ‘Name the triangles.’ Then instead of right or scaled... is that one?”

Peter answered like it was second nature, “Scalene, but you were close.” Matt was beginning to wonder how long they’d known each other.

Nodding his head Deadpool finished, “Okay so, instead of right or scalene like you’re supposed to name ‘em it's got the names Geoffrey, Frederick, and Eugene listed. Tell me that isn’t in the least bit nerdy.”

Letting himself be pulled into the banter Matt joined, “I’ve got to agree, Pete, it sounds a little nerdy.”

Matt could imagine the eye roll that was being shot his way as Peter quipped, “Says the one with devil horns.”

Deadpool felt the need to tag in, “Oooh burn!!”

Immediately Peter shot him down, “Can it, panda eyes.”

“Oh, really Spider-man. That name has less creativity than the plot to Karate Kid.”

“And what would you have called me?”

“I don’t know, but I can think of a few things I’d like you to call me.”

Matt cut back in, “Okkkaaayyy, I think that argument is over. Someone tell me what happened in the alleyway this morning.”

Peter stretched out on the couch while Deadpool filled him in, or started to anyway. About halfway through the explanation, a knock sounded at the door. Peter hopped up to get it despite Deadpool’s protests about never having visitors.

As Peter swung the door open a large man spun him around, wrapped an arm around his waist, and tried to pull him out. This action earned him a super strength elbow slammed into his ribs, breaking two of them, and a punch to the face. 

The man fell to the ground at the same time as glass shattered with more men tumbling through. 

The three vigilantes sprung into action.

There was a little more than half a dozen of them crammed into the small apartment. Three of them charged at Daredevil and he lost focus on what was going on with the others as they traded blows.

Slamming his knee into one’s stomach he launched himself over the hunched man and onto another’s back. These guys were crazy big. To give you an idea they made Deadpool’s massive frame look like a child.

Matt wrapped one arm around the guy’s neck effectively cutting off his oxygen as the other man pointed a gun at him. 

The devil’s head jerked to the side as he heard another gun being cocked across the room. 

Hiding himself behind the now unconscious goon he swung one of his sticks into Deadpool’s weapon which was aimed at the gunman aiming at him. 

It hit its target and the merc cursed as the gun fell from his hand. The stick continued on against the wall where it bounced off and smacked into the back of the last standing man’s head. 

He fell to the ground out cold at the same time Deadpool whined, “Geez dude I was just trying to be helpful.”

Daredevil explained harshly, “No killing.”

Rubbing the back of his neck Deadpool replied, “Oh. Someone probably should have clued me in on that earlier.”

With an exasperated sigh Matt checked heartbeats. Only the three guys he’d taken down, his, and Deadpool’s were present.

The devil’s head tilted as he realized what was missing.

He asked, “Where’s Peter?” in unison with Deadpool’s eloquently put, “Well, Fuck!” 

~~~

Admittedly chasing after Loki without even a scrap of a plan wasn’t the best idea the Avengers had ever had. They’d been doing pretty good up until this moment though. 

After chasing down what seemed like a hundred of decoy Loki's they had finally tracked down the real one. Fighting their way through armies of fakes there was only one left standing when they’d become seemingly glued to the floor.

They still had full use of their upper bodies, they just couldn’t advance any farther.

Of course, their stuck position gave Loki the opportunity to monolog between the shield, knives, arrows, and energy balls that were being flung his way.

Which brings us to now.

“I’m really not asking for all that much.”

Black Widow couldn’t help but remind him incredulously, “You’re asking for the entire Eastern Hemisphere.”

“I won’t bother your precious states.” He crossed his heart sarcastically, “Scout’s honor”

Tony rolled his eyes. He’d been up way too long for this bullshit, “Go to hell, Loki.”

“Didn’t really suit me. I'm beginning to think you’re going to need some,” He tilted his head as he considered his word choices before deciding, “motivation. So how about you give me what I want, or I start destroying your family, piece by piece by piece.” Each ‘piece’ was emphasized with an explosion setting off behind one of their heads.

Tony tried to explain, “It doesn’t work like that. We can’t just hand you the rights to half the Earth.”

“No? Hmm. Well, in that case, I’ll have to start with your beloved little baby face.”

Tony lunged against the invisible restraints and shouted, “You touch Peter and I swear to God I’ll rip you apart.”

A smirk spread across Loki’s face, “Peter? No, I was talking about your boyfriend, Captain Rogers here, but this Peter does sound more interesting. I’ll be seeing you.” He brought up a hand and as he snapped he disappeared and the spell that held the crew still was broke.

Not wasting any time the Avengers took off towards where they had landed the jet following Steve’s directions, “We have to find Peter.”

Tony was quick to reply, "I'll call Matt."

~~~

Back in Oscorp Tower.

“I’m afraid I require your assistance.”

“And why would I want to help you, Norman. If I remember last time you tried to blow my head right off my shoulders.”

“Oh don’t take it personally dear it was just a precaution.”

“Yeah, well screw you. I don’t care what you want I’m leaving.”

“Deadpool.”

“What?”

“Deadpool.”

“Yeah, I heard that, I’m not fucking deaf. I meant what about him.”

“I need you to handle him. You can do whatever you want as long as he is out of my way.”

“You tried to hire him?”

“Yes. It seems I didn’t account for his…”

“Unpredictability. Welcome to the club.”

“Will you contain the situation.”

“How could I say no?”

“Thank you. One more thing Mrs. Bevell. If you were to… acquire a certain asset for me in your search you would be rewarded generously.”

“Cut the crap and give me a name.”

“Peter Parker.”

“Consider it done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many of you guys have seen the tv show Person of Interest, but it is really good and John Reese is the guy Peter went to help in this chapter. This also has to do with what is messing with Matt's senses. I have this theory that he can hear electronics and since the Machine for POI is such a massive project I thought maybe it would have some interference. I don't know it made sense in my head. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom, Done!
> 
> A long time ago I had an idea for this fic and just wrote a few rough drafts in first person Peter's pov, and this is one of the chapters I recreated tons of times. I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

When Peter first came to, the world was fuzzy and dull. As time passed he became more conscious of his surroundings, but the feeling of being deep underwater never left. 

Rolling his head across his chest he tried to gather his thoughts in his drug addled mind.

His hands were bound tightly behind his back in some kind of metal chain. Trying to pull them apart only made the metal bite into his skin but this didn’t stop his tugging. 

What made him finally give up on the chains was the now present ‘drip, drip, drip’ of blood rolling off his fingertips and onto the cold concrete floor. 

Peter’s feet were tied to the legs of the metal chair he was in with the same type of chain as the stuff that bound his wrists together. 

He was in the middle of a massive warehouse, yet the room was unoccupied. If he listened closely he could just barely make out whispers coming from an attached room.

With nothing else to do, he went back to tugging at his restraints without any progress.

Eventually he let his head fall back and shivered. It was seriously freezing in there. He was still wearing the t-shirt and jeans Mr. Finch bought him, but they’d taken his shoes. Which honestly pissed him off because those were brand new converse.

The young hero was left to his own thoughts for nearly two hours before a woman in high heels walked in and clicked her way towards him.

Knowing this probably meant bad news for him didn’t lessen the relief he felt at seeing another person. Being left tied to a chair, alone and cold, has the ability to make you go just a little bit insane. On the bright side, the drugs had worn off for the most part.

The woman stopped right in front of him but stayed silent.

Just as Peter was about to crack what would’ve been undoubtedly a terrible joke she walked away and disappeared behind him. Fighting back the urge to call after her, Peter let out a slow controlled breath to calm his nerves.

Sure he’d been in some rough spots as Spider-man, but never had he been kidnapped. 

The kid just hoped Matt or Wade could find him. 

Actually, he just wanted his dads to come crashing through the doors to take him home, but that was impossible. They’re still in Belgium trying to handle Loki. Hopefully, they have better luck than him.

A loud screeching made him jump from his thoughts as pantsuit lady dragged a chair and settled back in front of him. She leaned back still remaining silent.

Not being able to stand it any longer he finally cracked, “Is there something on my face?”

The woman smiled a triumphant smirk but still didn’t say anything.

“Is there any real reason you’re staring me down or is this some kind of intimidation technique?”

She nodded her head and smiled again. Finally saying something she introduced in a heavy British accent, “Hello Mr. Parker, I’m Laura Bevell. I’d shake your hand but, well you know.”

Peter suggested, “Oh no problem. Just get me out of the chains, and we part as unlikely friends.”

Laura chuckled and scrubbed a hand over her face before replying, “Fuck it, this whole polite thing is bullshit. I’ve got you chained to a chair in a warehouse I think I’m past manners.”

Her spiel seemed to be aimed more at herself than him, but he answered conversationally anyway, “So… Chivalry is dead?”

Honestly, he wasn’t expecting the fist to the face, but with the way the past few days have been going, he’s lucky she wasn’t secretly she-hulk.

Of course, he couldn’t help the “That wasn’t very nice.” from escaping. This earned him another hit across his jaw. Which prompted his, “I think you need some anger management.” 

This time when the hit came the girl exasperated, “Do you ever shut up?!”

“Not if I can help it.”

Peter braced himself for a hit that never came. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and rested her elbows on her knees, “Here’s the deal, I’m being paid a lot of cash to turn you over. This got me wondering just why you’re worth so much. It could be the superpowers of course, but your’s are second rate at best. I mean if that was the case why not Wolverine or one of the Fantastic Four …”

She was interrupted by Peter’s “Hey! I’ll have you know my powers are…”

“Pathetic, really. You can climb walls and what, bench press a car. Give me two plungers and some steroids and I got you beat.”

Shrugging the best he could with his hands tied the sixteen-year-old retorted, “Sure, but I bet you wouldn’t look nearly as good doing it.”

Bevell rolled her eyes again and continued, “So that means either it’s personal, but if that was the case it’s likely he would have wanted to bring you in himself, which tells me that you must have something he wants.” She pulled her chair closer to Peter’s before asking, “What do you have Peter?”

“A charming personality and a nice ass, or so I’m told. What do you have?”

Pulling a knife from the inside of her jacket she held it up to Peter’s throat before replying, “A short temper, which you are at the end of. Tell me what you have before things get bloody.”

“Listen, Cocoa Puffs, I don’t even know who’s after me let alone what they want. Threats won’t change that.”

“No, but maybe some information will. Norman Osborn has offered 6 mil. for you. Now I could turn you over for the cash, but I’m already rich and me and Norman have some history, so I would much rather screw him over. However, if you’re not willing to talk within the next,” She checked her watch, “hour or so, then I’ll have to give you up.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care about your relationship troubles, and though I’m flattered you think I’m worth more than six million, I still don’t know what it is you guys think I have,” Peter lied smoothly.

A tight, angry smile pulled at Bevell’s face as she dug the knife into Peter’s neck, causing a small trail of blood to run down onto his shirt. Laura punctuated, “Maybe you should think harder.”

At the same time a door swung open and a tall man with cowboy boots walked in, “He’s here ma’am.”

Bevell clenched her jaw as she pulled the knife from his throat and wiped the blood on Peter’s jeans, “Good. I’ll give you some time to think while I deal with our guest.” She stood and walked towards the door, “Mr. Black, prepare another seat, and keep him quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The door slammed shut, and Peter tracked the dark haired man until he disappeared behind him. When he could no longer see him he listened to the thunk sound he made with every step of his heavy boots.

After some rummaging sounds and a heavy thud, Mr. Black reappeared carrying a heavy metal chair identical to the one Peter was tied to.

“I could help with that. Just get me out of the chains.”

The man just sighed, set the chair about twenty feet in front of Peter’s, and fastened it to the ground with concrete screws and a hammer drill. When he finished with that he walked back behind Peter before reemerging with a rope and a set of handcuffs. Dropping the items, Mr. Black sat in the bolted down chair and stared at Peter.

“What is it with you people and staring.” When that didn’t seem to deter the man Peter continued, “Seriously dude, take a picture it will last longer.”

Mr. Black opened his mouth as if he was going to reply before shutting it and laughing. When he brought his attention back to Peter, he rubbed a thumb across his own lips and replied in a gruff accent, “My apologies, I was just trying to figure out what they see in you.”

The teen sighed and slumped forward as much as he could, “Save the speech, I’m a terrible hero, even worse person, yadda, yadda, yadda. You guys really know how to kill someone’s self-esteem.” Peter tacked on sarcastically, “A true gift, really.”

Mr. Black laughed again, but shook his head, “No, I don’t give a damn about what Bevell and Osborn think, I’m referring to my men.” Peter kept his mouth shut unsure of where this was going and just offered a confused glance as Mr. Black’s piercing blue eyes raked over him and he continued, “You see, I work for a… well legally we call it a security company, but really it’s just…”

Peter cut in, “Goons for hire.”

Another warm smile from the man which was almost as frightening as the knife Bevell had to his throat just moments before.

Mr. Black answered, “Not exactly how I would put it, but yeah, basically. I’m guessing you know what kind of situation you’re in, but let me explain. Mr. Osborn offered Lady Bevell 6 million for you to be turned over to him. Now, I know Norman, and between you and me, there’s no way she’s getting that money. But, I also know Lady Bevell pretty well also, and she isn’t going to take kindly to that. My bet is that Osborn is going to catch a bullet between the eyes, and Miss Bevell really couldn’t give a shit less about you, so you are most likely next.” 

Mr. Black leaned forward and grinned once again, “Enter me and my business proposal.” Peter couldn’t form any sort of snarky reply, so he let him finish, “How about we let Osborn bite one, then I return the favor to Bevell, and you go free, working for me and my men of course?”

Swallowing past his unease Peter questioned, “Working how?”

His fears were confirmed as Mr. Black answered, “Maybe... ‘serving’ is a more accurate word.”

The young hero half sobbed and let his head drop to rest on his chest. It was getting less and less likely he was going to make it out of this in one piece. 

He heard shuffling and the now familiar clunking of Mr. Black’s cowboy boots as he made his way over to Peter. Hooking one large hand under the boy’s chin he held onto Peter’s tear stained cheeks. Just as he was about to say something he heard footsteps in the distance.

Peter watched as the dark haired man’s head cocked to the side. Dropping Peter’s face as if it had burned him, Mr. Black dug through his pockets bringing out a long strip of dark gray fabric, “Do us both a favor and keep your mouth shut.” Pulling it across Peter’s mouth he secured it around the back of the kid’s head making a gag. Then Mr. Black retreated back to the door and acted as if he had been standing guard the whole time.

The sixteen-year-old listened as the knob jingled and couldn’t help the ‘what fresh hell will this be?’ from ringing through his head. 

Reluctantly he watched as the door swung open and Bevell returned along with four other men dressed similarly to Mr. Black and… “Wade?” Peter questioned around the gag. It came out sounding like a grunt, but Wade’s maskless eyes rose to meet his regardless.

Wade took in the bruised cheeks and puffy red eyes and anger coursed through him. He started fighting the men for the first time since he arrived, “You promised you wouldn’t hurt him.”

Bevell smiled and returned to her earlier discarded chair, “No, I said I wouldn’t touch a hair on his head so long as he was cooperative. He hasn’t exactly been a prized kidnappee, yet you’ll notice that that mess of hair is still intact.”

When he continued to fight the men holding him she sighed, “Take a seat Wade or the deal is off.”

Instantly the merc deflated and willingly made his way to the chair. He shook his head at Peter’s inquisitive grunt and let himself be bound. A rope was tied around his feet, his hands handcuffed behind his back. 

Bevell rose from her chair and stood in front of a now tied up Deadpool, “Good boy. You and I will have all the time in the world to reacquaint ourselves, however,” She turned to Peter, “Me and you are on a pretty tight schedule.” Casting one more glance at the mercenary she added, “I hope you understand.”

Wade jerked rattling the handcuffs against the steel chair and shouted, “You said you’d let him go.”

Without even casting a look his way she replied, “I lied. Deal with it.”

Ignoring Deadpool’s protests she pulled out the knife from earlier and placed it flat against Peter’s left cheek before asking, “I hope you’ve given it some thought.”

Tired of playing brave the teen just closed his eyes as the cold steel carved into his skin. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he listened to Wade’s shouted insults and pained struggles.

Peter stayed quiet as Bevell cut an angry red line across his jawline. When she was finished with that she placed the blade onto the middle of his chest. Even if he had wanted to talk the gag would’ve prevented it. 

He realized with dread that Mr. Black was right. She didn’t care about him, didn’t care about the 6 million Osborn had offered, or even the vile of whatever Peter had figured Norman was after. All she wanted was to hear Wade’s raw voice call her a bitch in a pained scream over and over, and for some reason that Peter hadn’t yet figured out, torturing him was doing the trick.

Bevell made her first really deep cut across his right shoulder just under the collar bone at the same time as the door flung open and none other than Norman Osborn stormed in, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Taking two steps backward, Bevell hid the knife somewhere in her jacket, “Is there a problem Osborn?”

Still visibly angry the tall man stormed over to Peter, “Problem?” He asked in disbelief. Grabbing Peter’s face similar to the way Mr. Black had earlier, he continued, “Look what you did to him!”

With a shrug, Bevell answered, “Nothing some stitches won’t heal. I just thought I’d help you along with getting what you want.”

Osborn just shook his head at her and turned back to Peter, “I’m sorry Petey.” His hands reached around the kid’s head and undid the knot, removing the gag. “I’m sorry, Miss Bevell’s methods are a little…”

“Nutty,” Peter cut in with a rough voice.

Norman laughed and patted Peter’s head with father like affection. The action made Peter feel even more uncomfortable if that was possible. 

He decided to go with the easier course of action for once in his life and blurted, “Listen, I don’t have the vial, not anymore anyway, lost it a long time ago.”

Confusion furrowed Norman’s eyebrows as he cocked his head and repeated, “Vial?” Understanding dawned on him, “Oh, you think I want the Arsenic? No, that was just a chemical mixture I was playing around with. Total bust by the way. You see, what I want, is you.”

Peter parroted, “Me?”

“Yes, that spider that gave you your powers belonged to me. Therefore, your powers are mine. Since I can’t figure out how to separate you from your powers, though frankly, I’m not sure I’d want to, this means that you belong to me.”

The teen was left speechless. Luckily the Merc with a Mouth never fails to deliver, “Are you crazy! Your spider bites him so he’s yours? You know he’s not black and this isn’t the 1700’s. Was that offensive? I feel like that might of been offensive. Eh, whatev’s my point stands. Crazy!”

“I’m crazy, have you ever listened to yourself?”

“Of course! Every sentence out of my mouth is fucking gold. You, however, are as useless as a knitted condom in the summer.”

Norman tried to respond, but Deadpool was now caught up in an argument with his boxes about possible uses for knitted condoms in the summertime. 

When Osborn finally gave up on holding an intelligent conversation with Deadpool he rolled his eyes and turned back to Peter, “Let’s get out of here.”

Bevell shook her head and in an instant had the older man pushed away from Peter, her hand on his chest, “My money first.”

Giving her an incredulous look Norman exclaimed, “Seriously!? Look at him, you’ve already taken your payment.” He tried to step around her but stopped in his tracks as she pulled a gun on him.

Peter cast a glance at Mr. Black, but he was completely ignoring the predicted events and listening to someone talk through an earpiece. 

With the gun aimed at Osborn, Bevell exclaimed, “Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Osborn shook his head, “Put the gun down, Bevell. It’s nothing personal.”

Smiling a frightening grin Laura responded, “Yeah, well this is,” Then she pulled the trigger spraying blood everywhere and blowing a small chunk of skull right next to Wade’s black combat boots.

She immediately spun around and aimed the weapon at Peter.

Wade screamed at her with a raw voice, “No! No, I’ll do anything...Please.”

Shaking her head she kept her gun trained on the young vigilante, “Sorry kid, but you talk too much and I have no use for you.”

A shot echoed throughout the warehouse.

This time the blood splattered all over Peter. Literally all over. Drops were splayed across his face and his clothes were soaked with the substance.

Mr. Black tucked his gun into the back of his pants and started his approach, but paused about halfway there placing a finger to his ear and cursing, “Shit! You sure it’s him?” Making eye contact with Peter he explained, “We have some complications. Stay put, I’ll come back for you.” Then he was gone, disappearing through the door leaving Peter and Wade alone with two dead bodies.

Peter let his head fall limp over the back of the uncomfortable steel chair and let out a sigh.

Wade pulled against the handcuffs that held him to his own chair as he watched the younger man with concerned eyes. He couldn’t help but ask, “What’d you do to get so many people pissed at you?” When the teen’s chocolate brown eyes met his cloudy blue ones he elaborated, “I might need some pointers.”

With a chuckle, Peter replied, “You want the long version or the short?”

“I think we’re on the clock.”

Peter nodded, “Basically… absolutely nothing. Everyone is after me, but I haven’t done a single thing, not to them anyway.”

Which was the truth. Norman Osborn wanted him for an event he had no control over, Laura Bevell wanted him for revenge against Deadpool, Gregory Black wanted him for the way he looked, and, though Peter and Wade weren’t aware of this yet, Loki wanted him because of who his parents are.

Wade nodded his acknowledgment to Peter but kept his focus on breaking his thumb in order to pull his hand free from the cuffs. Finally, he succeeded and bent down to untie his feet.

As soon as Wade was free he rushed over to Peter and helped him out of the heavy chains that had him bound. “I believe a thank you is in order.

Peter shook his head with a chuckle, “You know, I always thought my knight was supposed to be wearing shining armor, not black and red leather.”

Wade didn’t fire back his expected sarcastic comeback, instead, he just clenched his jaw and helped Peter up. When Peter headed towards the door Mr. Black had disappeared through, he did ask, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Don’t you hear the fighting? We have to go help.”

The merc listened to the sounds of guns going off outside the warehouse, but shook his head no, “Everyone in this building has tried to kill you baby boy. We need to leave.”

The teen rolled his eyes and challenged, “Not everyone. You’re here.”

Wade clenched his jaw again, “About that…” He had to look away as shock took over the young man’s features. 

“What are you talking about?”

“On the rooftop. Why’d you think I was there?” It came out with more venom than Wade had intended.

Opening his mouth to reply Peter thought better of it and instead responded, “It doesn’t matter. We still need to help.”

This time it was Deadpool who was visibly shocked, “It doesn....” He shook his head, “I’m leaving baby boy. I advise you to come with me.”

With that Wade turned and retreated away from Peter and to a second door that Peter hadn’t seen while he was tied up. 

Right before Peter decided to go and join the fight, he understood. He understood what the big deal was, why he had made such good bait. Going through the few times they’d been together he thought of the alley when he wasn’t quite unconscious but couldn’t respond, back at Wade’s apartment when his brain was stuck on repeat, even when Wade had thought Peter was asleep and kept glancing over at him.

Peter called out, “Wade, wait!”

The merc turned hoping Peter had changed his mind and watched the teen run up to him. 

Said teen stopped not even a foot away from the older man. Standing up on his tiptoes he placed a quick kiss to the side of Wade’s mouth, “Thank you, Wade.”

Before Deadpool could respond the door on the other side of the warehouse was flung open revealing a fully suited Tony Stark. In an instant, Peter was across the room and in his arms and Deadpool was gone. Peter wouldn’t see him again for another three years.

Tony pulled away from his son’s bone crushing embrace and held out a certain red and blue spandex suit.

Peter’s surprised eyes met Tony’s amused ones, “You aren’t mad?”

“Oh I’m pissed, and you’re grounded for the rest of your life, but you were right, Peter. This is your city too, and you deserve the chance to protect it.”

The End!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaa! It's complete and I hope you guys liked it.
> 
> I'm kind of thinking about writing a spideypool fic (Real spideypool not this crappy imitator) about when Peter and Wade do see each other again. I said it would be in three years, so Peter would be 19, which is legal age, if you get what I'm saying. ;) I don't know though. Tell me if you're interested.
> 
> Yayyy! I really really really hope ya'll enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought!! :) :) :)


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